


The Human Devil

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Apocalypse, Awesome Rowena MacLeod, Demons, F/M, Human Lucifer (Supernatural), Hunters & Hunting, Original Character(s), Parental Jody Mills, Season/Series 05, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 06:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18585634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: When Lucifer has his Grace bound and is left on earth, supposedly to start the apocalypse, he has no idea of how to be human. With ideas on his hatred of humans and an utter determination to avoid Michael, and therefore the Hunters, he runs into a girl who offers to help.Abby is by no means a conventional girl, with a lot of issues. Asking Lucifer to become her housemate just seemed to add to the list.





	1. Abby

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Hope you enjoy.

You could blame me for drinking, I was already on my third drink. When I had been little, my aspiration of being a Doctor was something my mother had adored, buying me dolls to practice on and taking with her on her rounds when she worked as a nurse. My desire to help people had fallen flat down when my mother had died, and the money she had left for me to get to college was stolen by my stepfather. With him gone, I had nothing.  
Eight years of shitty jobs, working night shifts and cleaning toilets and dealing with the snobbiest people in society just to train to do something I never thought I would have considered. Air hostessing. It wasn’t actually too unbelievable, no longer did I want to help people, I just wanted to escape from my life. When I had got the apprentice job as an air hostess for a Private Plane company, I had been shocked. Working for big businessmen who hired the Planes, who demanded a pretty girl to serve them champagne while they went to their meetings. 

It should have disgusted me, but I was too busy enjoying the cities I got to visit. The money was nice, the tips even better, and what was so wrong with wearing a slightly short skirt and a blouse slightly too tight if I got good money? However, sitting in the crappy bar in my home in Kansas, I knew what the issue was. My last flight had gone well, I had been assisted by my friend Emily to serve two guys on a trip to Canada. They had ordered extra’s in the form of two strippers, skinny girls dancing around poles and making noises to entertain them. Then one of the men had to ruin it, had to put me down.

‘I think I’d prefer it if you were doing the stripping. Always liked my women chunky.’ That was me, some chunky air hostess who got hit on constantly and had nothing else to live for. I wasn’t a doctor, I couldn’t help people. I helped the worst people in society, the stuck-up biggots that nobody liked, but I didn’t have a choice. 

I’d almost lost my job when I declined, the man threatening to do all manner of things. Here I was, twenty-six years old and with not a lot to look forwards to in life. Finishing of the third drink, I headed back towards my house. It was actually pretty big, three bedrooms, aimed to try and replicate what I had when I was little. I had enough money to live here, and afford the medical treatment that kept away the side-effects of my crappy life.  
I was supposed to have a counselling appointment tomorrow. It was supposed to do me good, but what I couldn’t understand was how the world got this messed up. When I was little, my mother had told me that my Dad was a soldier. I had believed her, before I found a journal that belonged to him detailing weird things I didn’t understand at nine years of age. Vampires. Werewolves. Demons. Maybe that was why I was messed up. My mother had sat me down, tried to explain to me that those things were real, that my father hunted them. 

Yeah, right. Funny joke. When my mother died three years later, a witness stating they had seen someone with black eyes do it, I had taken the journal before my father had taken everything else. Orphanage for me, stuck in the authorities that didn’t want to actually do anything to help me. Nobody wanted to adopt the kid from the broken home, so I stayed there. And now I lived in this crappy house.  
Walking up the stone path, grumbling about the lack of plants that were growing, I stopped. A man was slouched on the porch, looking terribly cold. Skin pale, lips tinged slightly blue. I wasn’t surprised, it was cold out, and the poor man was wearing very little.

‘Sir?’ I asked, stepping forward until I realised the man wasn’t responding. I pressed two fingers against his neck, feeling the steady thrum of a pulse, before I pulled my mobile out. This guy needed an ambulance. 

Did he? He was dressed in pretty odd clothing for the weather, was dirty and bruised. It was obvious he didn’t have a lot of money, and it wasn’t exactly cheap to go to hospital. Kicking myself mentally for what I was about to do, I opened the door and dragged the unconscious man in, running to light a fire. The man was hard to move, rather large compared to my small frame, but I maneuvered him until he was on the couch. Blankets wrapped over him, a pillow tucked under his head, I wrote a note by the side that told him I didn’t mean him harm, and that there was a shower down the hallway should he need one.

I collected some clothes, placing them by the note, and a fresh towel. The clothes were large sweatpants and a big baggy shirt, stuff I had bought from the men’s section to lounge in when I wanted to curl up with ice-cream. I was unsure if I should leave him, wondering if it was such a good idea to leave a random man in my house.

Well, how bad could it be? Ignoring my body telling me I shouldn’t leave, I went up the stairs to my room. Stripping of the alcohol-smelling clothes, I took a quick shower and braided my damp hair, crawling under the sheets. If the worse came to the worse, I had a gun in the top drawer. Wasn’t sure it would do a lot of good, I didn’t think I could shoot someone, but I was willing to try. 

This was one of the worst ideas I had ever had. I could barely look after myself without a breakdown, how was I going to manage with someone else that required help? I rolled over, pulling the sheets up tightly around my neck and screwed my eyes shut. I would send the man on his way in the morning, and then I could get back to my month vacation. It would be fine, I just needed to stop panicking.


	2. Bacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bacon. Title says it all.

I wasn’t a morning person. When I woke up, kicking the sheets off me and ending up sprawled across the floor, I groaned loudly. Knowing one day I would end up breaking something when I did this, I rolled to my feet. Remembering the weird man downstairs, I got dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, heading for the door. I padded down the stairs quietly, finding the fire dead and the couch empty. The clothes were gone, and the distant rumble of the shower told me that my new friend was alive.

That was good. The kitchen was my next stop, making a pot of coffee and frying bacon. The radio was on, the music helping cheer me up as I cooked bacon, the scent filling the kitchen.

‘Who are you?’ I screamed, almost dropping the tongs I had been singing with, spinning and raising them as a weapon. It was the stranger, who didn’t look as worried as I thought he would be at standing in my kitchen. In advance, he was actually pretty hot. Tall, blonde with blue eyes, slight stubble around the jaw. Trust me to pick a hot stranger, whose muscles were barely contained by the shirt. 

‘I… you… Abby. My name is Abby.’ I lowered the tongs, the man raising his fingers and clicking them. I paused, both of us staring at the fingers as if they were supposed to do something. His face morphed to one of utter anger, which just made that face more attractive.

‘Dammit, Dad.’ He stated, glaring at me. I held my hands up in surrender, before gesturing to the bacon. Peace offering, I thought happily.

‘Food?’ This seemed to anger my new friend, who stormed out of the room. I sighed, turning of the bacon just in time to see the man pause at the door, his stomach grumbling loudly.

‘What did you do to me?’ He snapped, eyes angry. I watched his fists clench, suddenly seeing the downside of letting a complete stranger into your house.

‘You were freezing. I just put you on the sofa, nothing else.’ I promised, shooting what I hoped was a friendly smile.

‘Where are we?’

‘Just outside Kansas City.’ The man didn’t seem to understand this, before he looked back up at me.

‘My name is Lucifer.’ I snorted, then realised he was serious.

‘Like the fallen angel?’ He seemed surprised, but I shrugged, claiming Sunday school. He didn’t seem to know what that was, so we stood in silence for a little longer.

‘I am a fallen angel.’ He bluntly stated, to which I laughed. Okay, this guy was off his rocker.

‘Drugs? Alcohol? What’s your poison?’ He growled, tensing up again. It was then that I went still, watching as the shadows of two wings spread on the wall behind, those blue eyes glowing momentarily before he coughed, apparently whatever he had done had taken strength. Angel. That’s what the shadows had looked like, wings. When the lightbulbs in the room started vibrating, he pulled the wings… shadows… back in, crossing his arms and staring at me.

‘Prove it.’ I demanded, the man looking at me as if I were mad. His eyes then flicked red, which was worse than the whole glowing thing, and I rather unfortunately felt myself going dizzy. This, whatever he was, it wasn’t possible. Lucifer now seemed smug, rather pleased with his show, before it changed to pained when his stomach rumbled.

‘Why does it keep making this ridiculous sound?’ He snapped at me, to which I realised that there was something wrong with the Fallen Angel. Like, something actually wrong. I wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t some elaborate hoax, but with what I read in the journal that belonged to my father… the red eyes made sense. 

‘Er, you’re hungry? Humans need food.’ Lucifer rose his head, apparently for the first time seeing me as useful.

‘Food? I’ve seen the Winchester’s eat… it must be similar.’ Winchester was a surname I recognised, one of the names written in the journal. I wondered if they were his friends, before I gestured to the kitchen. 

‘I can feed you, if you want.’ He looked slightly put out, before he nodded. I watched him sit at the table, before I plated up a bacon roll and handed him some coffee. One thing was for sure, it was certainly an odd sight. He rose it carefully, taking a tentative bite and chewing. When the blue eyes widened, I figured he must like what he tasted. The roll disappeared quickly, before he looked at the coffee.

‘It’ll help wake you up, you look tired.’ I didn’t know if it was wise to insult the devil, but he didn’t seem fazed. He drunk the liquid, before looking back to me expectantly. 

‘Well, what do I do now?’ He asked, a lot like a child demanding attention. Keeping the tongs near me as a form of defence, I slid down into the chair opposite the man.

‘How about we start with why you’re here?’ Lucifer paused, before gesturing to the spare bacon. I chuckled, making up the spare roll.

‘I was trapped in a Cage, in Hell. I’m supposed to start the apocalypse, to fight my brother Michael. But that was never my intention, as much as I hate you odd humans. I just wanted rid of the Mark. People will be looking for me, but my Grace has been bound. I can’t even kill people anymore.’ I handed him the bacon roll, not understanding half of what he had said. The last part snapped inside my head, a glare forming on my face.

‘You tried to kill me!’ That’s why he had clicked his fingers! I didn’t know whether to be offended or not, Lucifer looking up in confusion.

‘You are odd. I just told you I am the Devil and you are annoyed that I tried to kill you?’ It was something that had crossed my mind as well, why I was so okay with the fact that the potential Devil was sitting at my kitchen table eating through my supply of bacon. 

‘Tell you what, how about a deal?’ The Devil looked intrigued at my offer, one eyebrow quirking as if he found me amusing like a child.

‘You tell me about Angels and Demons, and I’ll help you be a human.’ Yes, great one Abby, bargaining with the Devil himself. Lucifer lent back in the chair, a slight smile crossing his lips.

‘I’ll play. As long as I get more of those… things.’ He looked at his empty plate, and I smirked. Just like any guy, the way to his heart was through his stomach. Devil or not.


	3. Devilish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time

Lucifer’s P.O.V.  
Humans had to eat three times a day. It was ridiculous. I had got in one of those metal contraptions that humans called cars, slightly amused when the woman flustered about having to lean across me to put a seatbelt on me. I allowed it, before noting the fear she felt. Anger curled in my stomach, the woman said she would help me, then feared me?

It hadn’t taken me long to figure out it wasn’t me. She feared everyone. In the shops, where she had purchased lots of food I didn’t recognise, she had kept close to me. Every time someone approached, her shoulders would tense slightly, a worried look passing the mortal’s face. I didn’t particularly care, but I was quite curious. No mortal in their right mind would welcome the Devil into their home, not unless they were mad.   
When we had returned home, she had told me I could sit on the couch while she cooked. I did so, wondering why in Heaven my Grace was bound. Dad, I thought miserably. If Michael found out I had escaped the Cage, and found me human? It was embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as having a mortal care for me like I was unable to do it myself. Which, in all fairness, I probably was. 

She asked so many questions, about Hell, about Demons, about Heaven. I told her as much as I could, actually quite amused by her questioning. When the sun fell, the girl seemed to look more tired, and I could feel the corners of my eyes tugging down. 

‘I’ll show you to the spare room.’ She promised, leading me to a room with a comfy bed. As I lay on it, I listened to the mortal in the other room breath steadily, listening as she fell asleep. If I was on Earth, Dad must have put me here. Which meant the Winchesters would be hunting me, and Castiel, who was smitten with the two of them. Well, more Dean, considering Sam had Demon blood. Maybe I would tell Abby that story, she seemed interested in those things. 

It was just as I was about to fall asleep when I heard the mortal cry out, heard her cry in the darkness. She was still asleep, so presumably she was having a bad dream. I wondered how weak mortals really were, shutting my eyes and drowning out the sounds of the girl as I slept.

 

*Time*  
‘Lucifer, no.’ She snapped, turning her head impatiently to me as I stalked a man. He had shoved into me, and I wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with annoying humans. Turning to Abby, attempting my best flirty smile, to which she seemed immune, we continued walking through the mall. It had been a week since I had found the human, and I had taught her how to hide from Angels. She was warded, as was her home, which meant I was safe around her.

It also meant that she could continue to teach me what life was like as a human, which was something I really did need to know. I didn’t tell her that my Grace had grown slightly since I had been on Earth, hoping she wouldn’t think too much of it. I didn’t know much about Abby, just that she didn’t like other humans and got angry when I threatened them.

‘Are Sam and Dean Winchester related to John?’ She inquired, looking across as we walked through the mall. I had been told I needed some more clothes, which was true. 

‘Yeah, two sons.’ I knew about the Journal, knew her father was a hunter, but didn’t tell her that. She was figuring out things on her own, which was incredibly clever of her. I had noticed she spent a lot of time reading the Bible, asking me what was true and false. Upon finding most of it false, she had adamantly stated that I was a misunderstood man. I had tried not to appear shocked, carrying on as if nothing happened. 

‘Tell me about them.’ It always went this way, and I was pretty soon telling her stories of the Righteous Man who was raised from Hell, and the Boy with Demon Blood. I told her how they were actually quite unlike what you thought they would be, Sam was the more sensitive of the two with the larger heart and the bigger brain.

‘Of course, he’s supposed to be your vessel.’ She remarked, piling clothes up for the person to scan. I blinked, realising that Abby had just complimented me, before we were walking back to her car. 

‘Taco Bell?’ I inquired hopefully, using the expression Abby had told me was called “puppy-dog eyes”. She laughed, head tipped back and her dark hair falling round her shoulders. Sparkling green eyes met mine, and the girl nodded.  
‘Tell me about your brothers.’ We had spoken a little of the Archangels and the creation, about Amara and Dad. She seemed intrigued, but didn’t insult anyone, not even Michael.

‘As you know, Mike was the eldest. Stubborn, the perfect soldier. Raphael was a lot like him, always being the soldier. Then there was Gabriel, who loved to play pranks and got away with anything. He was great with the fledglings, would always watch over the Garrisons and held the babes to fly. It was why I recognised Castiel, Gabriel had a soft spot for the youngest angel.’ Abby was nodding along, listening to the stories I would give without hesitation.

‘Castiel was the youngest?’ She asked, knowing that he was the Angel that was with the Winchesters, who were currently trying to find me. 

‘Yes. I still remember the time before he fledged, Gabriel would allow him to grip his wings and take him flying. When Gabriel returned, I told him that Castiel would make a fine warrior one day, that his garrison would be the strongest. I was right, I just didn’t get to see it.’ I thought about the Angel, knowing how powerful he had been. 

‘You and Castiel share a common factor, you know.’ Abby remarked, pulling up at Taco Bell. Normally, anyone who presumed something about me or my family would end up dead, but I allowed her to continue.

‘You were kicked unfairly into the Cage, Castiel has been separated from his brothers and sisters in heaven. Both of you are on this earth, without your family.’ It made me pause, I knew that the young Angel wasn’t allowed back, and most would kill him on sight. I never thought of us as being the same, but it was true. We had fought for free will, and had ended up imprisoned. 

‘I suppose. But Castiel had the Winchesters.’ I stated as we walked into the building, Abby giving me a dimpled grin,

‘And you have me, Luci.’ I didn’t comment on the nickname, just watched the girl order the food and head back to the car like it wasn’t odd to have the Devil riding shotgun. I spent the journey home wondering why Dad had bound my Grace, shoved me onto the doorstep of a woman who I suddenly realised I knew little about. If this was his idea of a game, it was certainly playing with my mind. 

Settling on the floor, my head resting back against the couch as we ate food, Abby continued to pepper me with questions. I couldn’t help but smile at her, the enthusiasm for learning was incredible. I may hate mortals, but this one wasn’t that bad.

‘Luci, if Sam said yes, would you body hop?’ I hadn’t expected the question, tilting my head to the side to look up at her. She wasn’t looking at me, more at the fire. 

‘No. I don’t want the end of the world, Abby. I just want peace.’ It used to be a lie, but it was the truth now. She hummed happily, her hand resting in my hair as she massages my scalp like Michael had done when we were kids. I knew I should get up, get away from her, but I rested back against her and allowed the movement to continue.

I wouldn’t leave her. I decided that. I would just keep her around, she would be a good friend. Or something else, whatever she decided. I just knew I didn’t want the odd mortal to go.


	4. Devil's sympathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer finds out more about Abby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Self-harm

Abby’s P.O.V.  
Three weeks with the Devil was the best thing, and I had managed to extend my vacation for another month, claiming trauma. It had been three weeks since I had attended therapy, although I kept up to date with the drugs. The self-inflicted harm had slowed, but I wasn’t quite strong enough to stop. Not yet. 

‘Luci, I’m going out today. Will you be okay without me?’ It was ridiculous, but I felt bad for leaving him. Lucifer came walking out, a pair of ripped jeans that looked way too good on him catching my attention. I met his eye, noting the concern on his face.

‘Are you alright? You look ill. Would you like me to come with you?’ I shook my head quickly, which of course made the Devil suspicious. His eyes narrowed, taking a step forwards. I wondered, at full power, if he’d be able to read my mind. Probably. Which meant he would know how crappy I was at being a human, my thighs and wrists proof of that. 

‘Where are you going, Abigail?’ Ah, full name. I was in danger now. The Devil only used full names when I crossed lines, like asking him what had happened to him and Michael’s relationship. I took a breath, looking down at the floor awkwardly.

‘Counselling.’ I mumbled, not looking up even though Lucifer was now right in front of me.

‘What is it?’ He inquired, looking intrigued. I forced myself to look up, meeting his eye for a short second before I broke it. 

‘It’s for people who need help. I speak to people about… issues.’ Lucifer cocked his head, and it was odd, because I could have sworn I saw the feathers behind him ruffle. I blinked, the wings gone from sight, and I looked back.

‘Issues?’ He looked so confused, it almost made me feel like smiling.

‘Yeah. Family, work, self-issues.’ He blinked, before his face became guarded, like it was when he was talking about his family. 

‘I shall see you after, then.’ 

**  
It went badly. I had explained I had a male housemate, which Dr Green saw as a step forwards, before we had gotten onto more pressing issues that had me closing up. The journey back wasn’t great, tears streamed down my cheeks and blurred my vision, my head aching and thighs itching as I pulled up to the house. I opened the door, hoping to get to my room, but smelt… Cake?

‘Abby?’ I walked into the living room hesitantly, startled by the fact that Lucifer was wearing an apron and the kitchen was messy, but a cake sat on the countertop. Lucifer was beaming with pride, before he noted my red eyes and dishevelled look and looked awkward.

‘Cake?’ I asked, stepping forwards. He smiled, gesturing to it like a proud mother.

‘I made it myself.’ I could see that, but I appreciated the gesture. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my head into his chest. He tensed momentarily, but hugged back. I kept my hands low, so I didn’t touch the shoulder-blades where the wings attached.

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ I laughed, it was what I said when Lucifer looked moody. He seemed surprised at my laughter, but grinned at me with a toothy smile, before I went to shower. I might have spent a little too long, my wrists becoming the focus of attention, but I was quick to return. Lucifer cut me some cake, plating it up. I turned to go to the couch, gasping in pain when he gripped my wrist.   
It hurt. I tried not to show it, but it really hurt, and Lucifer seemed to immediately realise something. He took the plate, reaching for my arm again while I tried to pull it away.

‘You’re hurt!’ He exclaimed, but I was backing away. It wouldn’t work, Lucifer was still an all-powerful being, who simply snatched my arm and yanked the sleeve up, blinking when he saw the cuts. 

‘I see. Where else?’ He asked, his eyes focused entirely on them. I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t want Lucifer to leave, but I knew he would now that he knew how much of a mess I was. Apparently, the panic attack didn’t go unnoticed, because as my chest started heaving and my vision went blurry, an arm was wrapping around me.

A hand took mine, pressing it against a cool chest, a steady heartbeat pressing underneath. Soothing voices filled my ear, a hand on the back of my head stroking curls, when I eventually looked up.

‘Don’t leave.’ I begged, seeing surprise flicker across his face, before it was replaced with that signature cocky look.

‘I quite like you Abigail, I’ve always wanted a pet human.’ I hit his arm playfully, before he focused back on my wrist. I watched as the wounds faded slightly, gasping as I stared at his glowing eyes.

‘I can’t do a lot, but that should help.’ I was so surprised, tears started pricking at the corners of my eyes, which he brushed away with his thumb.

‘Gabriel used to get panic attacks. Rare, for angels. I was the only one who could calm him.’ I loved hearing about the Angels, they were my favourite of all the stories Lucifer would tell me. 

‘My thighs.’ I blurted, Lucifer looking confused before he understood. He didn’t ask why, just kept hold of my hand, while I realised my other was still under his shirt. 

‘You need rest, Abby. I’ll clean up the kitchen.’ He promised, scooping me up as if I weighed nothing and carrying me to my room. He paused at the picture on the chest of drawers, having never been in my room before. It was a photo of me and my Mom, the only framed one I had.

‘My Mom.’ I explained, Lucifer nodding before leaving the room, closing the door gently. 

When I woke, the Devil had managed to clean the entire kitchen, sitting on one of the stools and looking pensive. He rose his head when I walked in, and for a moment I paused. I had gone for my boy-shorts that I slept in, which showed some older white scars on my thighs, and a cami top that showed the ones on my arms. Most were faded thanks to Luci, and he seemed pleased when I walked in. 

‘How about some cake now?’ He asked, to which I laughed. He seemed to always think with his stomach. I settled next to him, eating cake while thinking about something I had wanted to ask him for a while. Lucifer was helping himself to the biggest slice I had ever seen, so I waited till his mouth was full before I asked.

‘I want you to teach me self-defence.’ Lucifer mumbled something uncoherent, cake crumbs dropping from his mouth, before I laughed. 

‘Why?’ He asked, swallowing the large mouthful and looking at me with an unreadable expression.

‘I don’t fancy getting hurt anymore.’ It implied I had been hurt before, which was true. I had taken martial arts, boxing and yoga classes to try and improve my flexibility and fighting, but who better to learn from than the Second Born of Heaven? Lucifer paused, taking another bite of cake.

‘If you tell me one thing I don’t know about you for every lesson.’ I blinked, not expecting the bargaining. It turned into a smile, thinking about what I could possibly tell him.

‘I work as an Air Hostess for Private Plane rentals.’ He had seen the TV, knew what they were, and his eyes widened. 

‘Can I see the outfit?’ He asked with a wink, something I had learnt about Lucifer in this past three weeks, his love of flirting. I snorted with amusement, wiggling my eyebrows playfully before I stood up excitedly. 

‘Can we start now?’ He sighed, putting the plate on the side and following me to the back lawn. I didn’t care about the lack of dress, more excited that I would finally get to train. If I had Lucifer by my side, then I couldn’t be hurt, right? 

Not that I only wanted Lucifer to stay because of his abilities. I didn’t, I wanted the Angel to stay because I enjoyed his company, his bad humour, his hatred of humans and his awful attempts at seduction. He had told me he wouldn’t leave, that he liked me, but could I really trust the Devil?


	5. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer struggles controlling his wings.

Lucifer’s P.O.V.

Abby was certainly something else. An air hostess, her father had died when she was little. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, she’d ended up in an orphanage when her step-father stole the money she was supposed to use to train to be a Doctor. There was something she wasn’t telling me about her stepfather, but I didn’t push it.

Her training was coming along nicely. In two weeks, she was able to last in hand-to-hand combat against me for quite a while. She used some pretty mischievous tricks, and had a habit of doing an odd victory dance when she won a spar, but she seemed content. The scars, they were something I had struggled to understand. Since I had found out, she had relapsed twice, both after she had seen this Counsellor.

It drained her, physically and mentally, and after, I made sure to put on a movie. She seemed to like those, enjoying spending time with me. I was enjoying her presence, which was why she was trusting me enough to go out into a crowded space. It was her “homework” for counselling, to go to a bar. She was dressed rather provocatively if you asked me, considering her usual dress was sweatpants and hoodies.

It was a blue dress, coming down to mid-thigh and being quite form-fitting. She wore heels, explaining to me that she was fed up of being a midget. I did not ask what one of these was, merely stared at the long legs that were highlighted by the shoes. Her hair was done up, but she didn’t wear any makeup, which I was glad of. She smelt divine, and my vessel seemed to be responding to her.

Stupid Nick, apparently he had a thing for dark-haired women in revealing dresses. I didn’t understand why I had to dress up, black jeans and a shirt that was rolled up. Abby had told me, and I quote, “men are 110% hotter with sleeves rolled up”, and I was rather enjoying the way she was watching me when she didn’t think I could see.

The bar smelt of sweaty humans and alcohol, but the music was pleasant. I was happy to chat up the woman sitting next to me, who was claiming that her friend had been the one to bring her here. I really did marvel at some humans, their ability to lie was second to none. I mean, I could tell she was lying, but it didn’t stop me from wondering about how people were so desperate for attention. Looking away from my current companion, I spotted Abby playing Pool, two men staring at her like she was a piece of meat. They made it difficult to maintain distance, brushing up against her every time she walked past.

She looked uncomfortable. My Grace, what little of it I had access to, was burning up at the sight. Her eyes met mine, as if she had felt my gaze, and a pleading look crossed her face. Excusing myself from the woman in front of me, I headed across to the Pool table, placing a hand on the curve of her hip and glaring at the men.

‘Winning, Love?’ I asked, Abby blushing slightly. I knew she thought it was for show, but I really did want to scare those men off. The two were now sizing me up, probably deciding if Abby was worth the fight. Deciding she was, the larger of the two spoke up,

‘You her man?’ Abby was sinking back into me, which I certainly didn’t mind.

‘Yeah, problem?’ I inquired, keeping my hand firmly against her waist. If I hadn’t, I would have been tempted to wipe that smug look of their faces.

‘She’s shooting high.’ I didn’t get it for a moment, but Abby certainly did, flinching. I took her hand, locking our fingers together as I led her from the bar. She didn’t speak, following me back to the car and climbing into the passenger seat. I took the driver’s side, remembering what she had taught me about driving.

_‘Right, it’s pretty simple. Turn the wheel, the tires move. Forward. Reverse. Go pedal. Not go pedal.’ Abby grinned, handing me the keys with a look of utter faith. I did as told, forward, go pedal. It took three minutes for her to be screaming, grabbing the wheel as we narrowly avoided a cat._

_‘You just need practice.’ She stated, staring at the cat as it ran off. I was quite happy with her hand over mine, so chose not to speak up._

Driving back to her house, she stayed quiet, chest rising and falling the only sign she was actually alive. Her eyes were shut, hands clasped together in her lap, looking thoroughly terrified.

‘Abigail, talk to me.’ I murmured, surprised when she opened her eyes and looked across. She reached out, taking my hand and squeezing it, keeping hold of it all the way home. I parked the car, stepping out to unlock the door and let her in. She followed numbly, before walking up the stairs in the direction of the shower. I wasn’t happy letting her go alone, but figured it would be overstepping a boundary to follow.

When she returned, she was wearing one of my shirts and some shorts, showing off long legs that I couldn’t help but follow with my eyes.

‘You keep shifting. What’s up?’ Abby asked, as if she hadn’t just had a freak out over something. It was true though, I was uncomfortable. Partly because my wings hadn’t been groomed in the best part of six weeks, and I was attempting to do so by myself.

‘Wings are stiff.’ I answered, watching her eyes light up.

‘Show me.’ I did as told, annoyed how I only had one set at the moment, but stretched out the white wings behind me. It was a common myth that my wings were black, the top set were slightly grey, but the rest were white feathers.

‘Is this about the grooming stuff?’ She inquired, having already learnt that most wings needed grooming to keep them working. I gave a nod, before a smile broke out across her face. Taking my hand, she led me to my room. I had to admit, all manner of thoughts were running through my mind, but I didn’t expect her to tell me to lie on my front.

I did so, feeling Abby’s weight press down onto the small of my back, fingers gently reaching for feathers. Gasping when she touched them, I instructed her on how to groom, running her fingers through the feathers and aligning them. Any that fell needed to be burned, considering they were quite powerful, but I waited. When she reached the soft underside, I was glad that I was pressed down onto the mattress, so she couldn’t see quite how much her actions affected me. When her hands worked over the oil gland, she seemed surprised that the liquid smelt like, in her words, honey and lavender. I tried to explain it was because it was an essence of Grace, but decided against it as she preened the feathers, slowly the bright shine returning to them.

Wings have a mind of their own. Always have, like they respond without us asking. So, when she had rolled off and cleaned her hands, burning the feathers, my wing instinctively reached out to brush against her. She seemed surprised, but giggled as she relaxed back into it. I didn’t bother trying to explain that wings usually only responded like that to close family and loved ones, instead watched her curl up next to me on the bed, the wing tucking over her.

‘Luci? Thank you.’ I didn’t ask what for, more concerned that my wing was trying to pull her closer to me, while I was trying to keep the distance she wanted.

‘It’s no problem, Abby.’ I meant it. It felt weird, but as I listened to her breathing deepen as she fell asleep, I felt the slightest trickle of Grace return to me. Keeping her wrapped up in one of my wings, I shut my eyes, figuring sleep would be good for the both of us.


	6. The Winchesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bam! Winchesters turn up

Abby’s P.O.V.

After the bar incident, it became quite common for Lucifer’s wings to respond to me, even if they were invisible. I was getting better at sensing them, which annoyed him to no end, considering he wanted to keep them a secret. I wasn’t a fool, he had explained that wings acted on their own, often without the Angel permitting the movement. That he trusted me enough to have them out made me smile.

Lucifer looked rather miffed that I had managed to put him flat on his back, pinning limbs as I straddled his chest. I had to admit, it was a nice sight, not one that I would ever disagree with. Luci was smirking now, before bucking his hips up. The distraction made me release the grip I had on him, being flipped over and landing on the dirt, his body on top of mine. It was way to sexual, and I figured that we should probably move, but his wings were covering the both of us as if they wanted us to stay like this.

Fancy that, falling for the Devil. Ironic. I rolled out from under him, offering to cook curry for dinner. It had become a favourite of his, turns out he had a love for spicy food. I was happy to meet someone who enjoyed it as much as I did, and it was nice to have him in the kitchen while I was cooking. I wrapped the apron around, starting to cook while Lucifer read to me from one of the Witch’s books he had stolen, explaining how warding worked. I was fascinated to learn, Witch’s power was connected to damaged Grace, which was kind of what Lucifer was. It was why Witch’s and Demons usually came under the same categories.

When Lucifer mentioned a man called Crowley, I had to rack my brain to remember who he was. It came to me, a story Luci had told about the new King of Hell, who had tried to undermine him.

‘His mother is a witch, Rowena.’ I hadn’t heard of her, but I figured she must be exciting. To be the mother of the King of Hell? Pretty impressive. Lucifer continued to tell stories, which dabbled into stories of the Winchesters, before I asked an important question.

‘Will the Winchesters come for us?’ Lucifer looked up at me, a small smirk forming on his face. I hated that look, I could never figure out what he wanted.

‘Yes. I’m surprised they haven’t managed, them and their Pet Angel seem to be pretty smart.’ I actually wanted to meet them, I had heard of the work they did. And considering Sam was supposed to be like Lucifer, I figured I would get along with him alright. Castiel was just like Lucifer in terms of free will, so he probably would be okay. I was curious about Dean, wanting to know more about Michael could come from meeting his supposed true vessel.

Lucifer was walking across to me, pulling something out of his jacket I hadn’t noticed before. I stared at it, a long shiny blade that was silvery in colour, looking awfully sharp.

‘It’s called an Angel Blade. Stab an angel or demon with it, and bam.’ I admired it, knowing it wouldn’t work on Lucifer if he was at full power. He had already explained that the Archangel Blade was needed to kill him, which made sense, although when he was this low on Grace a normal blade could kill him.

‘I want you to have it. In case anybody comes for us.’ Lucifer stated, taking my hand and wrapping it around the handle. I was surprised at how light it was, testing out how I would swing it. Luci looked slightly proud, a smile tugging at his lips, before I walked him through to the main room and put it somewhere I knew I could reach it.

‘Seriously?’

‘Trust me, it’s the most logical place.’ The Devil did not seem convinced that hiding the blade under the leaves in the plant pot was a good idea, but I assured him it would work. It was the closest spot to the door, and the most likely place I could reach if I needed it.

‘Movie night with curry?’ I inquired, hoping it would be a yes. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, as if he was surprised I would even ask, before a knock sounded at the door. Lucifer tensed, instinctively his eyes seemed to glow, before I glared at him.

‘Sit down, Luci. I’ll get it.’ He did as told, settling on the couch, although he didn’t look happy as I crossed to the hallway, walking to the door. Keeping the chain across, I opened the door slightly, staring at the three men on the doorstep. They were dressed in cheap suits, fake badges already in their hands, and I could almost laugh. Also, one thing Lucifer hadn’t mentioned, all three were pretty good looking.

‘Ma’am, would you mind opening the door. FBI, Agent…’ I was flinging the door open, wishing I’d worn something other than ripped jeans and one of Luci’s tops that said “Hi, I’m the Devil” on it.

‘Sam and Dean Winchester. You must be Castiel. Please, do come in.’ I offered, noting how they shoved the badges away and stared at me. I wasn’t a big fan of having so many guys this close, but I allowed each to step into the house before shutting and bolting the doors. Their attention was focused on one of the sigils drawn on the wall that Lucifer had told me would ward us from Angels, so evidently the Winchesters had used different methods.

‘Do come in, sit down. I’ll make some tea. Pie for you Dean?’ I asked, watching his face light up. Sam shoved him, but I invited them to the main room and offered the seats. Lucifer had disappeared, probably watching from a distance.

‘Ms Winters…’

‘Abby is fine.’ I said, smiling at Sam. He smiled back, although I could still see nerves lingering behind the look. I went to the kitchen, preparing tea and a slice of pie for Dean, before returning. I didn’t bother pouring a glass for the Angel, knowing he wouldn’t accept it anyway, so sat down and waited.

‘Abby, we have CCTV footage of you and a man leaving a bar three nights ago. Are you aware of his location?’ I smiled at Dean, who had asked the question, before getting to the answer. I had picked the chair nearest the Plant, in case one decided to have a go.

‘Sure, my housemate is probably upstairs.’ The men exchanged worried looks, eyes widening before Sam spoke.

‘Housemate?’

‘Yeah, never expected to share the house with the Devil. Lucifer! I know you’re listening!’ He crept out from the study, the group tensing and reaching for weapons. I glared at the three, especially Dean, cutting of the impending fight.

‘Not in my house, boys.’ They looked at me with confusion, before Castiel spoke up.

‘Someone has bound your Grace.’

‘Dear old Dad thought it would be funny.’ Lucifer snapped, his eyes raking over Sam before he settled next to me on the couch.

‘Well, I’ll leave you to catch up. Are you staying, boys? I’m cooking curry.’ Dean and Sam both looked like children in a candy store, so I headed off to the kitchen. Ignoring the sound of arguing, I happily cooked the food, figuring once they had sorted all this out we would get to the bigger issue.

What were we going to do about Heaven?


	7. Team Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made. Luci does some flirting

Lucifer’s P.O.V.

Sam Winchester did not trust me. Nor did Dean. Yet, they sat quite happily snacking on the curry that Abby had cooked. Castiel wasn’t eating, but he was drinking the beer Abby had provided. Both Winchesters accused me of seducing a girl to get what I wanted, but it quickly became apparent that, although I did like her, she was the one in control. Nor had she shown any sign, apart from the blushing, that she liked me back.

‘I have a spare room with two singles in that you can have, boys. Castiel, do you require a bed?’ Castiel shook his head, still not taking his eyes off me. Or, more specifically, my Grace. He was watching it, watching my wings, which I had to restrain to stop them from leaping to Abby.

‘How do you know so much about the situation?’ Sam asked Abby, the inquisitive side coming out. I could tell she was fond of Sam already, which made me slightly happy. My future mate, and my true vessel.  Chummy.

‘Lucifer keeps me updated.’ That was true, I did that often. Sam looked mildly surprised, but Dean still looked angry.

‘And he hasn’t tried to kill you?’ Dean snapped, Sam shooting his brother a scolding look. Sam was more open to this development, Dean had bad experience with dreams and Michael.

‘Actually, that was the first conscious thing he did. Then I waved some tongs in his face and fed him bacon.’ Also true. Sam made a choking sound, looking across to me, while I shrugged. I had tried to kill her, but I wouldn’t anymore. Not when I had chosen her.

‘And you let him stay?’ Abby smiled, taking a mouthful of her dinner.

‘Sure, life can only get better.’

‘This isn’t a good life.’ Dean snapped, and Abby tensed. I snarled slightly, glaring at my brother’s vessel, before my eyes focused on Abigail. Her chest wasn’t heaving, so she wasn’t panicking too much.

‘Not everything is rosy here either. If you don’t mind, I’m going to shower. There’s one down the corridor if you need one.’ Abby rose, leaving the four of them in silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was a sort of settled peace.

‘We will help you with Michael.’  Castiel stated, Dean looking mildly offended but Sam nodding.

‘Thank you, Castiel.’ Abby had been right, he was like me.

‘Ground rules.’ Dean stated, finishing his plate and looking up at me. I paused, tilting my head slightly as he spoke.

‘No using us as suits. No killing or maiming. No backstabbing. And whoever your friend is, you don’t hurt her either.’ Castiel tensed up, like he had already realised how much I cared for her, but I nodded.

‘We will need reinforcements.’ I stated, already having some ideas. Castiel also nodded, before Sam spoke up.

‘Crowley will help, if it means he can keep the throne of Hell. Rowena can be persuaded.’ Those two would be useful, although I knew Crowley would be manipulating me for my throne. I didn’t worry, I didn’t think Abby would want to go to Hell anyway.

‘Balthazar can be persuaded.’ Castiel stated, and I remembered the young fledgling that had waddled round behind Gabriel, following him like he was the most important Angel in existence.

‘What about Gabriel?’ Dean asked, and I rose my head. Last I heard, my brother had vanished. Many presumed him dead. Castiel looked hesitantly in my direction, before he turned to the Winchesters.

‘He’ll take a while to find. I will ask Balthazar and Hannah to track him.’ I wondered who Hannah was, she was not an Angel I was familiar with. Was she in the garrison?

‘Gabriel will follow, he is fond of you.’ I remarked, looking at Castiel, who seemed surprised.

‘We have not spent time together since…’

‘Since you were a fledging, I know. I remember.’ It felt odd, remembering my little brother looking after the fledglings, watching how they grew. I left them sitting at the table, cleaned the dishes up and went to the shower. Abby was already in bed, so I left her alone and went to my room, trying not to think of the time before I fell.

 

When morning came, it was the smell of bacon and pancakes that had me rolling from the bed. Nudging a sleepy Dean out of the way, I headed down the stairs as fast as I could manage to reach food. Castiel was already awake, seated on one of the chairs in the kitchen and giving me a look I couldn’t decipher. Sam was there as well, mirroring the expression, but I didn’t think much of it as I smelt bacon.

‘Hungry.’ Was all I said, Abby grinning as she turned around. I must say, when she was wearing my shirt and some pretty tight shorts, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was more hungry for. Ignoring the thought, I gave her my best smile as Dean sat down, grumbling about a lack of coffee. Abby poured mugs of the liquid, handing them to Dean, then Sam, and finally me. I then realised what the three boys were looking at, the not-so faded scars on her wrist. Those ones were three days old, and I had used my Grace up trying to heal them.

I was, however, caught off guard by the fact she was showing them to the strangers. She trusted me, and I trusted the Winchesters not to kill us, so I supposed that was enough. Shooting the three a look that told them to not mention it, I smiled lovingly when Abby plated up food.

‘Thank you.’ I stated, tucking in. Dean followed in much the same matter, Sam being slightly more reserved about how he ate. When Abby settled down, she turned to me with a look on her face that told me I wouldn’t like what she said.

‘Work want me in this weekend, I’ll be away for five days.’ I bit back the growl, knowing there was something she wasn’t telling me about her job. I knew she had time off due to a “traumatic experience”, but I didn’t know what was done or said.  She hadn’t exactly been upfront with the information.

‘Hush now Luci, it gives you time to find Crowley and Rowena. Plus, Balthazar can fine Gabriel.’ So Castiel had updated her on the plan. I shot the Angel a glare, ruffling my feathers to make myself seem more intimidating. The Angel looked slightly concerned, but a whack around the back of the head from Abby had me stopping.

‘Lucifer, don’t glare at Castiel. Otherwise I’ll tell him all the embarrassing stories you told me.’ She wouldn’t, but I liked the threat. Giving her a playful scowl, I settled back in the chair.

‘Fine, but don’t think I won’t get you back for that threat.’ I mimicked her angry expression, to which she snorted and ate her breakfast.

‘You can stay in the house while I’m gone, don’t let the King of Hell wreck it, yeah?’ Surprise must have shown across my face, because Abby laughed and ruffled my hair.

‘I’m not kicking you out. Just pick me up before the drama starts.’ Like I’d leave her behind. The very thought of it made me want to be sick. Ignoring the three men at the table, I shot her the most flirtatious look I could.

‘Stop seducing me, you Devil.’ She said chuckling, cleaning away her plate. I just watched her, shooting daggers at the Winchesters who looked amused by how utterly smitten I was with the human. Not that I would admit it out loud. I couldn’t help my wing instinctively reaching for her, not that the boys could see, but Castiel could. My little brother said nothing, but it turns out he didn’t need to.

‘Lucifer, keep your wings to yourself.’ I was tempted to ignore the comment, before sighing and forcing my wing to retract away from her.

‘When do Crowley and Rowena get here?’ Sam asked, looking to Dean. I listened in to the conversation, also wanting to know when the two misfits would be joining the new Team Free Will.

‘Tomorrow, I think.’ Dean stated, flashing a charming grin at Abby when she gave him more bacon. I glared at him, but he held his hands up in surrender. It was then that I remembered that today was a Thursday, and that meant…

‘Abby, what time’s your appointment?’ I felt her tense, her soul twisting to dark as she thought about it. Wanting to comfort, but not wanting to do it in front of the Winchesters who might see it as a weakness, I didn’t approach.

‘I’ll leave in half an hour.’ It must be late morning then. Sam seemed to understand, but Dean opened his mouth to ask. Strangely, it was Castiel who shook his head quickly, shutting the elder Winchester up.

‘Come here.’ I requested, being ignored by her weak protests as she claimed she needed to wash up. I growled slightly, eyes glowing with Grace. The three at the table looked slightly worried, Abby just stared at me.

‘Come here, Abigail.’ She snorted, stepping forward as I took her arm, twisting it to admire the cuts across it. My fingers traced over them, healing them so they faded to silvery scars. She smiled in thanks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before walking towards her room.

‘Do I get my top back?’ I asked, attempting to lighten the mood. Abby threw me one of her best grins, the one that lit her entire face up, eyes twinkling with mischief.

‘Nah, you smell good.’ I huffed a laugh, draining the last of the coffee.


	8. Life in Amsterdam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby does some flirting. Then gets in a fight.

Abby’s P.O.V.

I was currently in Amsterdam, which was nice. Lucifer was texting me, which was better. I had left them alone in my house, and apparently Crowley and Rowena were there. They had a lead on Gabriel that Balthazar was following up, and Lucifer was asking if I had found anything on a way to summon Michael to a different body yet. I hadn’t, even though I had been through all the old European archives that I could find.

**Devil: I can’t. I’m going to murder everyone. If I had my Grace…**

**Me: You’d be using it to help them, because they’re on your side. Do it for me, Luci x**

**Devil: I better get a kiss after all this stress**

**Me: I kissed you on the head before I left. Don’t be greedy.**

**Devil: Darling, I can tell you’re blushing right now**

I was so not getting into this with him, so put the phone away quickly. Nope, whatever the Devil way playing at, it wasn’t a game I knew. I continued flicking through the book I had… acquired… from the library. It was quite heavy with Angel lore, made for good reading while I was sipping my coffee. Another text buzzed, but I ignored it in favour of reading about how Angel’s wings only reacted to loved ones. I blinked, reading it thrice over before stopping.

Logically, I knew Lucifer had to care about me on some level. He used what little Grace he had to heal my arms, spent time with me and actually bothered to listen to my problems. He baked me cake, sat with me and watched movies, and had taught me so much about Angel lore. He had even given me the Angel Blade, that had come with me on my vacation. I couldn’t quite believe how stupid I had been, Lucifer had to have some feelings.

**Devil: You ignoring me proves my point, love.**

**Devil: I’m lonely, Abby, fancy some fun?**

The second one was a joke, but I dialled his number anyway. He answered on the second ring, that sexy low voice filtering through.

‘Abigail.  Glad you could finally respond.’ I blushed, biting my cheek to stop the blood rushing. I took a casual sip of the coffee, before looking back down at the books.

‘I learnt something interesting today, Lucifer.’

‘Oh? Something you can show me?’ That was dripping with innuendos, it was obvious he was flirting, but I smirked. This was going to be fun.

‘Something about an Angel’s wings. Who’s allowed to touch them, who they respond to.’ I trailed my voice off, hearing his low voice tell me I better be careful about what I said next.

‘Or what? I get punished?’ I couldn’t quite believe I’d said those words, especially not in that low sultry voice that didn’t belong to me. Before the Devil could voice his protests, I hung up, feeling rather empowered by the conversation.

I looked up from my book, waving Steve over as he entered the coffee shop. He was the main pilot for the airlines, and he and Emily were a couple. It sometimes caused issues, with how the men flirted and stuff, but they were cute together. Steve took a seat, looking to the book with amusement.

‘Angels? Really Abs?’ I just shrugged, putting the book away as Emily joined us. This would be my last chance of normality for a while, when I got back to the States, it would be pretty heavy going with summoning Michael and preventing the apocalypse. My phone buzzed multiple times, indicating Lucifer’s growing anger, while I just smiled fondly at it.

‘Boyfriend?’ Emily inquired, looking at my phone. I paused, before a grin spread across my face.

‘Housemate. But maybe…’ I trailed off, both Steve and Emily whooping with joy at the potential of a boyfriend for me. Was that too casual? Did the Devil really date?

 

My time in Amsterdam was actually pretty constructive. The time away gave me space to clear my head and think about what I was doing. After all, I was now joining up with two hunters, two Angels, two Archangels, a witch and the King of Hell. Compared to them, I didn’t really bring a lot to the team. I continued scouring books, before I paused upon finding a spell. It looked complicated, pretty dangerous, but it was a summoning spell. It could work.

**Me: Think you could look over this for me? I don’t know if it’s any good.**

**Tall Winchester: Pretty complicated looking spell. I’ll take it to Rowena, thanks**

I figured it was a good enough start, even if I didn’t know a lot. I had recently acquired another book from a library, this one was about Demon culture and Witchcraft. After all, although we were summoning an Archangel, it didn’t hurt to have a little assistance.

‘Hunter?’ I looked up, a man sliding into the seat across from me. I didn’t know who he was, but figured he must have seen the lore books. Dammit, should have been more careful. I couldn’t be tracked by Angels or Demons, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t stumble across me. I pushed the glass across the table, gesturing for him to drink. He looked confused, but tipped the glass up and swallowed down the liquid. Not a Demon.

‘Who’s asking?’ I snapped, feeling the Angel Blade pressed inside my jacket. The man smiled, before gesturing to another guy to come across. I wasn’t exactly happy with having two men so close, but I didn’t comment.

‘My name’s Walt. This is Roy. American Hunters, thought we’d take a break.’ I knew who they were. They’d killed Sam and Dean. I tensed up, not really sure I wanted to be here.

‘You see, doll, we’ve heard about you. Abigail Winters, we know the Winchesters are alive. And we know you know them.’ I really wasn’t prepared to take on two fully sized Hunters. I couldn’t pray to Lucifer, I mean, I could, but he couldn’t get here.

‘Back off.’ I snapped, shutting the books and pulling them close. I grabbed my bag, shoving the stuff in it and heading to the door. I walked back to the motel room, wishing I had something better than an Angel Blade to use. Unfortunately, when the click sounded from behind me, I froze. Turning slowly, I looked down the barrel of the gun now pointed in my direction.

‘The location of Sam and Dean, and you walk free.’ I shrugged, putting the bag down.

‘Too scared to fight a girl?’ I asked, praying Lucifer hadn’t been going lightly on me during our training sessions. Macho men, they took the bait, lowering the gun. I grinned, beckoning both forwards. I was glad the road was secluded, because when we started fighting, it was over pretty quickly. They were sloppy, and once I had my hand on the gun, I used it to point at both of them. They pretty quickly scrambled away, words like “bitch” coming from their mouths.

I took out my phone, pausing on who to dial. Lucifer might go full bitch-mode, so it probably wasn’t wise. I dialled Dean, figuring I’d messaged Sam two days ago. He picked up quickly,

‘Shorty, I’m putting you on speaker. Sam’s here, as is Demon dude and Witch Bitch.’ I heard some mild protests from them, but I was too busy looking in the direction Walt and Roy had run off in. Shoving the gun into the waistband of my jeans after unloading it and putting the safety on, I spoke up.

‘I’ve met some new friends. Walt and Roy. Real nice guys.’ I heard Sam suck in a breath, Dean instantly switching to concerned.

‘What happened? Are you alright? Need someone…’

‘Easy, told them if they were men they would fight me without the gun. I’m now a gun up and they’re running off like chickens. But you should know, they were after you.’ I picked the bag up, jogging along the side of the road in the direction of the Hotel I was staying in. Dean was telling me that it was a good thing I was leaving tomorrow, because they would probably trace the phone, and I shouldn’t stay in my hotel room.

Sam piped up, telling me I had done well to get the gun off them. I heard Cas’s voice fill the room, with a voice I didn’t recognise.

‘Shush Cas, Luci’s girl is on the phone.’ Dean snapped, before his voice became more clear.

‘You got somewhere else you can stay?’ I was going to argue about being Lucifer’s girl, but decided against it.

‘Yeah, I’m just grabbing my suitcase now and…’ I trailed off, looking at my hotel room. It was a mess, clothes upturned, my toiletries littered across the floor. My uniform remained untouched, luckily, but as I turned through the stuff, I swore like a sailor.

‘What’s wrong?’ Dean demanded, sounding worried.

‘Nothing. Don’t worry about it.’ I hung up, before looking back down at the case where the photo album had sat. In it, all the photos I had of my mom apart from the framed one were in there. Not only that, but pictures of my real dad and… my stepfather. Texting Dean to tell him what airport they needed to pick me up from tomorrow, and giving them my clearance so they could access the runway, I sat down on the edge of the bed and cried.

Crying soon turned into crawling to the shower, thinking I should probably call Lucifer like I promised when I got in these situations. Instead, I found the darkness creeping into my mind, the numbness as hot water poured over my still clothed body. I was thankful I had abandoned the gun and Angel Blade in the other room, but not grateful for the razor blades that were in the bathroom. Taking a steady breath, willing myself to think straight, the slightest pinch of the blade as it ran across my skin helped calm nerves.

Red pooled around my feet, blood trickling from two cuts across my arm. They weren’t too deep, but it helped. At least, that’s what I told myself as I continued to add to them, until I felt that I could stop myself from using the gun I had stolen. Turns out, even having the Devil by your side, healing wasn’t an easy process. They had stolen something precious, something that contained too many personal truths.

I stood, wrapping the wound and packing my case. I looked to my uniform, wondering what Lucifer would say when he saw me in it tomorrow. It was enough to make me smile, before I thought about messaging him. I couldn’t stand the guilt, so instead kept my phone by my bedside, crawling under the covers with the gun close, in case I needed it.


End file.
